


Magical Children

by clueless325



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bonus Chapter added (which is longer than the original chapter!), Established Relationship, Family, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless325/pseuds/clueless325
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine wasn’t really counting on this. He’s a knight damn it, not a nursemaid! But Attacus had turned his baby blues on him and the two years old looked so much like Merlin, down to those ridiculous ears and that ridiculous grin that he just…melted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magical Children

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters and please note that English is not my first language.

** Magical Children **

**_~~Gwaine’s Favourite Royal (besides Merlin)~~ _ **

**_~~Attacus’s Antics~~ _ **

 

Gwaine was just minding his own business as he walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, bumping into several servants on the way when he heard a stern voice, “Come back here, Attacus!”

People randomly parted to give way to the little whirlwind that was scrambling towards him on short, but surprisingly quick legs.

Spotting the knight, the little prince’s face broke into a delighted grin. Tossing his chubby arms up, he demanded, “Sir Gwaine. Up.”

With an expert swipe, the knight scooped the youngest member of the royal family up in one arm. “What are you up to, Attacus?” he murmured, prepared to be amused.

The little prince put a finger to his lips and whispered his plea, “Hide.”

Gwaine threw his head back and roared with laughter and laughed harder through the little hands that frantically covered his mouth as he hurried to get the child away from Gaius’s searching gaze.

The little boy grinned. His blue eyes dancing bright with mirth as he placed both hands on the knight’s cheeks. “Kiss,” he demanded.

Gwaine would never admit it out loud but _everyone_ knew that Attacus was his favourite, though he _really_ shouldn’t have favourites. The two years old looked so much like Merlin, down to those ridiculous ears and that ridiculous grin that Gwaine just…melted… _every_ time. Hiding his smile, he obliged and planted a huge loud kiss on the boy’s forehead.

Attacus giggled and let Gwaine carry him to the playroom.

Anyone could see that there was magic in the air. It soared throughout the room along with a wooden horse, a carved dragon, two porcelain dolls, three wooden swords, several books, parchments and quills **_and_** a chair about six feet above the ground occupied by eight years old His Highness, the Crown Prince of Camelot and future Dragonlord, Prince William Pendragon.

Golden haired, sky blue eyes and just like Attacus was the spitting image of Merlin, William was the mirror image of Arthur, right down to his princely demeanour. He sat calmly on the floating chair as if presiding over a court in session.

Attacus pointed at 5 years old Aithusa who was sitting down on the floor with a book on her lap. “Thusa made Will fly,” he unnecessarily informed Gwaine what the knight had already deduced for himself for even though all the children were magical, the two youngest were exceptionally powerful.

“I can see that…” Gwaine replied as he scanned the room for an absent nursemaid and two missing seven years old girls, “And where might Thea and Thilly be?” he asked.

“ ** _I_** made **_them_** fly,” Attacus answered proudly, gesturing towards the window, “with the birds outside.”

Alarmed, Gwaine found himself at the opened window, a flash of splattered bodies in the courtyard below briefly flickered through his mind, barely aware of the gold flash in the little boy’s eyes as two giggling little girls flew in past him.

“Again Attacus!” Athilia Pendragon appealed.

“You can make us go through the clouds!” Alethea Pendragon added excitedly.

Gwaine rushed to shut the window. “Absolutely not!” he growled and tightened his hold on Attacus.

Attacus was undaunted, “I can make **_us_** fly!”

And Gwaine found himself hovering in the air, right next to William who apparently was trying to copy a page of a floating book onto one of the floating parchment using a floating quill as though it was an everyday occurrence which to be fair, it probably was.

He stifled a groan and looked down over Attacus’s shoulder at Aithusa, the only one of the children who may be able to counter Attacus’s powerful magic, all the while holding on to the little boy.

“Aithusa darling, be a dear and bring us down…please?”

Aithusa Pendragon, her raven-black hair tied back with a light purple ribbon that matched her gown, her blue eyes, _Arthur’s eyes_ , stared up at him, deceptively innocent.

Gwaine wasn’t fooled for a minute. Aithusa was very much like her father and like the _princess, would_ no doubt enjoy the predicament he was in.

She continued to stare at him as he hovered above her, bit her lip and gave Gwaine a small wave. “You’ll keep Attacus safe, won’t you, Sir Gwaine?” She asked sweetly. She was very protective of her baby brother after all. A purple butterfly flew from her opened palm to land on Attacus’s nose, much to the little boy’s delight.

Gwaine smiled down at her even as his arms tightened around the precious bundle he was holding, “Of course, Thusa. But I could use a little help here,” he said as patiently as he could, all the while silently cursing the high ceiling of the room.

“I’ll bring you down, Sir Gwaine,” Athilia offered enthusiastically even as her twin sister started conjuring a sapphire blue butterfly which of course distracted her to start conjuring her own emerald green butterfly.

Gwaine found himself upended in the air holding on for dear life.

“What on earth is going on here?” Arthur stood in the doorway as he observed the calamity that was his children’s playroom.

His eldest was on a chair above the ground directing his youngest girl on how a sword should be wielded by a floating doll. His twin girls, so much like his mother and eyes like his beautiful Merlin, were dancing on air to music from a harp that no one was playing. Various objects and colourful butterflies flew all around the room and **_Gwaine_** of all people was floating in intricate patterns to the tune of the music, upside down in the air, with his youngest in his arms laughing freely and having the time of his life. Attacus that is, (that was having the time of his life). Not Gwaine.

His heart warmed and laughter built inside him but Arthur dared not show it. The children needed to know that there were limits. Merlin would never let him hear the end of it otherwise.

Apparently, _Arthur_ was the one the children had wrapped around their little fingers, much to the amusement of everyone.

Gwaine opened his eyes. “Arthur! Thank God! Go get Merlin!”

Arthur had to bite the inside of his cheeks.

He went and took his youngest from the knight’s arms. The boy’s eyes were wide as he hugged his father and gave him noisy kisses.

“Arthur…” Merlin’s voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him.

The warlock’s eyes flashed gold. It took less than a minute for everything to go back in place and everyone to be on the ground, head right-side-up.

Merlin’s expression broke Arthur’s resolve, “And I was just about to join in the fun,” he said drily.

Merlin rolled his eyes at him. He knew Arthur was teasing from the warm glint in his eyes.

“I swear your children are going to be the death of me, Merlin.” Gwaine muttered with a shake of his head. Still, he couldn’t resist when Attacus stretched his arms towards him, “Especially you, Attacus,” he added burying his face in the boy’s hair.

“I know, Sir Gwaine. You told me many times,” the boy replied sweetly, “Father and Daddy too.”

“That’s because you can’t say no to him, Gwaine.”

“It’s because he looks like you, Merlin. And acts like you too.”

“Don’t be a clotpole, Arthur.”

“Father, Daddy, play nice,” William commanded from where he sat.

“Yes boys, play nice.” Gwaine echoed.

“William sounds like you more and more everyday.” Merlin murmured quietly under his breath.

“Funny,” Arthur said as he pulled Merlin close to him and stole a kiss. “I rather thought that all of our children takes after you.” He stole another kiss and added rather sappily, “Magical.”

Merlin rolled his eyes fondly. “You’re such a dollophead.”

“Daddy…what’s a… blop… head?” Attacus wanted to know.

Merlin burst out laughing.

“In two words, Attacus, a blophead is… your Daddy,” Arthur answered with a straight face.

“And a _dollop_ head in two words… is your Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place about nine years after Samhain in Two Halves Made Whole (a sort of end-game/epilogue for the story). William is 8 years old, Alethea & Athilia are 7 years old, Aithusa is 5 years old and Attacus is 2 years old. Alethea & Athilia are twins with Arthur’s colourings and except for their eyes (which looks like Merlin’s), they are children version of Ygraine Pendragon. Aithusa has Merlin’s/Morgana’s colourings and Arthur’s eyes. William & Attacus are younger versions of Arthur & Merlin respectively. William & Aithusa are the more ‘demure ones’ (more well behaved but with bleeding hearts) whilst Alethea, Athilia & Attacus are little ‘hellions and hooligan’ (mischievous with gentle souls but still strong-willed). At least that’s how I see them in my head ;)


	2. Magical Children (Bonus Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, watching William and Attacus was like watching a distorted version of Arthur and Merlin…

** Magical Children (Bonus Chapter) **

**_~~Like Fathers Like Sons~~ _ **

**_~~William's Wrath~~ _ **

 

Prince William Ambrosias de Bois Pendragon, the Crown Prince of Camelot and future Dragonlord was stomping mad. In fact, the eight years old was downright furious.

Regal in his bearing, very much like his father, the golden prince marched across the open courtyard where a fourteen year old visiting prince was laughing with several of his comrades.

The delegation from the North had been in Camelot for several days and whilst the visiting king and his councils sat in meetings with William’s father and his advisors, Prince Armand and his comrades had been familiarising themselves with the lay and ways of Camelot and observing the training regiment of Camelot’s knights.

It was said that as part of the negotiation, there was a petition to institute the prince and his comrades as squires to some of Camelot’s best knights.

Well, William will put a stop to that if he had any say at all. There are others, more deserving to be trained by Camelot’s knights, preferably those who did not prey on little children that they deemed as helpless.

The little prince had gone to the gardens where his sisters were playing right after his tutoring session with Geoffrey of Monmouth only to find Alethea and Athilia in tears with little Aithusa trying her best to comfort them, their nursemaid looking to retrieve something from the little brook running across the gardens and his baby brother running back and forth between the nursemaid and his sisters.

After a bit of coaxing, amidst the tears, William found out that whilst the nursemaid had taken Attacus to relieve himself by the brook, his little sisters were sword fighting, using their dolls as avatars, the visiting prince and his companions had stumbled across the gardens and the girls. They had found it funny that the girls were using dolls to fight in their stead and funnier still that the girls had their own swords.

Though not quite as huge as a knight’s weapon, the swords were finely made, gifts from Sir Elyan and enchanted by his daddy to never rust or break, to remain blunt and safe, except in the face of actual danger and to weigh no more or less than what was most suited to its wielder.

Suffice to say, the visiting party were intrigue and tried to confiscate the swords for their own and when protested by the girls, had gone and decimated their dolls and thrown the swords into the brook.

The gardens and its little brook that was brought to life by his daddy’s magic within the grounds of Camelot’s castle, a haven for him and his siblings to play at, to roam freely and safely and these people had come and hurt his sisters and made them cry and threw away their precious swords and ruined their dolls…

William was so angry, that he turned to Attacus, whom he asked, very nicely, because Attacus was his baby brother whom he loved more than anyone, except father and daddy, to dress him up in his armour.

His baby brother’s eyes glowed gold and William found himself fully suited and armed with his very own sword. It was a useful trick, one that started not long after William started training with his father and the Knights of the Round Table several weeks after his eighth birthday several months ago.

He was so mad, he wasn’t even aware that his two and a half years old baby brother had come trailing after him, huffing and puffing as quickly as his little legs could carry in trying to catch up with him.

Upon reaching the guffawing party, William threw his gauntlet in front of the Prince. “I, William, challenge you to a duel,” he gritted out stoically.

He didn’t bother to give his full name mostly because he recalled a story often recounted by his daddy and Sir Leon about his father entering a jousting match, pretending as a commoner so that people would not treat him differently.

He didn’t want the prince to refuse his challenge simply because he was the crown prince.

******

Prince Armand stopped laughing and gaped at the little boy in armour standing in front of him.

He blinked a few times to be sure that he was not hallucinating.

Who even made armour that small?

Camelot sure was a strange place and today was the strangest day yet.

Earlier in the day, he and his friends had stumbled upon a sprawling garden complete with its own brook and miniature bridge. The garden was in full bloom with flowers of every kind and colours, butterflies flying everywhere, with trees that bore apples, pears, plums, peaches and many more and squirrels and rabbits running around freely. It was like something out of a fairytale.

Even more astounding was the fact that it was autumn, close to winter.

Oh, and the garden was _within_ the castle walls.

 _And then_ , they had come across three little girls playing in said garden, _alone_ , unsupervised.

All three were beautiful, otherworldly, one might say. Two of them looked exactly alike with identical golden locks and familiar blue eyes that it was almost eerie.

Prince Armand almost believed that he had entered a fairyland of some sort.

The two dolls, finely stitched miniature versions of the identical girls, more than half their size, wielding gleaming swords in what looked to be an attempt at sparring, _with one another_ , had further spurred his suspicion.

It was kneejerk for him to reach out and retrieve one of the swords, interrupting the girls’ play.

It was then that the little raven-haired girl, younger that the other two, reprimanded him and demanded he return her sister’s sword.

She couldn’t have been half his age and she was regally _commanding_ him.

And what a strange sword it was. He could’ve sworn that it grew heavier and longer in his hand, the hilt growing to fit his hold, becoming completely and perfectly balanced. It was finely made but… completely blunt.

Still, it was wasted on little girls and the prince had told them so.

Things had got a bit rough after one of his friends lost his temper but the little girls had been put in their proper place.

He was a prince after all and children or not, they should not be so disrespectful.

And now, a little boy, not yet ten if he were to judge, and in armour no less, was challenging him, _to a duel_.

The young prince’s eyes narrowed.

The boy looked extremely familiar for some reason, his blue eyes identical to that of the little raven haired girl in the garden earlier.

Before he could respond though, a raven-haired toddler boy with ears that were slightly too big for his face, clumsily hurried to pick up the thrown gauntlet.

******

William had to restrain himself from groaning when Attacus went to pick up his gauntlet, holding it out to him with wide eyes.

It did not help his temper at all when the visiting prince started laughing obnoxiously.

“There you go, little boy. A clueless little baby would be better opponent for you,” the visiting prince jeered.

William’s eyes narrowed to slits, his voice was cold as ice when he responded, “Careful. That is my baby brother that you’re talking about.”

“Then, since he’s the one who picked up the gauntlet, I suggest you fight him instead. You’d stand a better chance anyway.”

“You would stand less chance against him than you do me,” William coolly replied. The visiting prince obviously had no clue what his baby brother was capable of. Attacus could turn him into a toad simply by willing it so.

******

“What’s going on here?” Lancelot asked in concern, his gaze going from one prince to the other.

William in armour, glowering furiously at the visiting prince did not bode well at all in the noble knight’s opinion.

“Your Highness?” the knight prodded gently, missing the surprised look on Prince Armand’s face when the honorary deference was addressed towards the little boy rather than himself.

Lancelot turned to the younger of the princes when William didn’t immediately reply, “Attacus?”

The toddler prince’s eyes were wide and he had a thumb in his mouth as he stared at his brother.

But at Lancelot’s question, he slowly pulled his thumb out of his mouth and pointed towards the visiting party. “They made Thea and Thilly cry, broke their dolls and threw their swords into the water, Will is angry and he dropped his metal hand."

“It’s called a gauntlet, darling,” Gwaine’s voice interjected as he joined the group.

Attacus’s face lighted like a lit flame, “Sir Gwaine,” he exclaimed, holding his arms up to be picked up.

Gwaine laughed and picked up his favourite royal (along with Merlin that is), allowing Attacus to give his customary kisses and bestowing his own to the toddler prince before turning hard eyes on Prince Armand.

“Camelot’s knights protect the people, not pick on children half their sizes.”

******

Prince Armand was gobsmacked.

He was in the presence of _Sir Gwaine_ and _Sir Lancelot_ , the most renowned and legendary of Camelot’s knights, his idols and the little boy who challenged him was none other than Camelot’s Crown Prince.

No wonder the boy had looked so familiar! He looked like the bloody _King_ of Camelot, _King Arthur Pendragon_ , the _High King of **all** of Albion_ , his _father_!

He tried to splutter an excuse, to give any reason to vindicate himself but the little Prince was having none of it.

In Sir Gwaine’s arm, the toddler prince was squirming to be let down.

He had heard of him, the toddler whose magic was said to be almost as powerful as his father, Camelot’s King Consort and Court Warlock, the powerful _Emrys_ , _Myrddin_ to the Catha, last Dragonlord who held the power of the Sea, Sky and Sun at his fingertips, most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth who can bend Time itself to his will and was said to hold power over Life and Death itself.

It was said that the child had turned half a dozen trained assassins sent to secure the royal children into a flock of little lambs simply with the blink of his eyes.

Dear Lord.

Prince Armand was starting to sweat.

******

Attacus tugged William’s breeches to get his attention and the little prince’s expression softened as he looked questioningly at his baby brother.

The toddler prince gestured for his brother to come closer and William complied by going to his knee so that he was at eye level to Attacus.

The raven-haired prince put both hands at the sides of his brother’s face. “Thusa fixed the dolls,” he said, “and I made Thilly’s and Thea’s swords fly back to us. They’re not crying anymore, Will.”

William gave Attacus a quick hug and ruffled his hair, “That’s very good, Attacus. But they still have to apologise.”

******

Lancelot tried to diffuse the situation but it wasn’t easy to reason with a child of eight whom whilst smarter than most boys several years older than him, were as strong-willed as both his parents, especially when an injustice was done, _especially_ to those he considered his to protect.

William was a lot like Arthur in that way.

And like Arthur, who could only be talked down by Merlin when he had dug his heels in, William was not proved against Attacus.

“Daddy said it’s better to forgive, Will,” the two years old said earnestly while rubbing his nose to his older brother’s, both chubby hands holding on to his brother’s cheeks, the way his daddy sometimes did when his father was angry. It always seemed to calm father and it always seemed to calm Will as well.

******

Gwaine drew his breath in slowly as he watched William’s expression softened considerably and a smile slowly formed on his lips as mischievous twinkles made their appearances in those clear blue eyes, _Arthur’s_ eyes.

He watched as the little prince bent to whisper something into his baby brother’s ears, transfixed when Attacus tilted his head in the way that _Merlin_ always does when listening to one of Arthur’s crazy schemes, listening and considering, simultaneously mischievous and innocent in the same way his daddy was able to be both cheeky and bashful at the same time.

His breath caught when Attacus’s _Merlin’s_ eyes started to twinkle and the brightest of grins, _Merlin’s_ grin, lit up his face, a cherubic, baby version of Merlin that never fail to fill Gwaine’s heart with fondness.

He saw the same look of wonder on Lancelot’s face even as he registered Arthur’s satisfied smirk on William’s face as the little prince straightened up to face the visiting prince, regal and commanding, very much like his father while Attacus scooted closer to his brother’s side, much in the same way as Merlin was always by Arthur’s side.

“Very well, Prince Armand, I’ve decided to let my brother deal out your judgement,” the Crown Prince said imperiously, “be thankful that he is more forgiving than I am,” imitating his father’s stance and words he often heard when his father let his daddy passed judgment over magical crimes.

With that, he turned slightly to his baby brother without taking his eyes off of Prince Armand, “Attacus,” he said, gently authoritative.

Attacus’s eyes glowed gold and the two brothers turned to each other, grinning widely at one another.

“Come on then. Let’s get back to the girls,” William said and made a grab for Attacus’s hand, completely dismissing their entire audience.

******

To both Gwaine and Lancelot, it was completely reminiscent of Arthur grabbing Merlin’s arm either as he was running for their life or running off somewhere in a hurry. Though in this case, it was a miniature version of Arthur pulling an even smaller, cherubic version of Merlin not even his waist high.

The delighted laughter that accompanied their departure had both knights in complete bewilderment until several shrill squeaks and spluttering from the visiting party drew their attention.

Prince Armand and his comrades were all pointing at one another in utter outrage, horror and panic.

Every single one of them had the black and white bushy _skunk_ tail attached to their behind.

“Don’t worry, the tail will disappear once you’ve made amends…or when it goes up to release…that smell that skunks gives out…whichever comes first!” William shouted out to them in between his laughter.

“But they’ll grow back every time you bully someone,” Attacus added, giggling happily now that his brother was no longer upset.

******

Gwaine bit the inside of his cheeks but lost the battle against his will after a few moments, “Merlin told me that he made that spell up when he ended up in the dungeon, the first time he met Arthur. Or rather, he imagined it but didn’t know how to at the time. I guess he remedied that,” the knight said with a heartfelt chuckle.

“I heard him teaching the spell to ward off bullies to several of his students,” Lancelot bit his lower lip but couldn’t quite stop the smile, “I hadn’t realised how he came up with it, or the reason behind it.”

The noble knight cleared his throat and added, “William must’ve overheard and Attacus doesn’t really require incantations, does he? Arthur won’t be please.”

“Right, well,” Gwaine said, rubbing the back of his neck before gesturing to the panicking visitors, “I’ll let you inform Arthur and Merlin and deal with this, eh?”

He laughed loudly as he made a run for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that the story made some of you smile and somewhat lighten up your heart.  
> For 2HMW readers, I haven't managed to get back to the story as yet and I do apologise for it but Uni has been hectic and so is life. I haven't given up though and WILL get back to it as soon as I can.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
